Is this a proposal to marry me?

In truth, Gu Fei had found precisely the right person. As soon as Feng Lizhi heard about the matter, he agreed without a moment’s hesitation, even bringing out the rare treasures Feng Puyu had collected over the years, all ready to be displayed in the shop on the day of the auction to impress the crowd.

Gu Fei was still an unmarried young lady, and Feng Lizhi a young man; if word got out that the two of them were alone together in the ink workshop, it would inevitably harm Gu Fei’s reputation. Though Gu Fei herself cared little for such things, Ku Ma couldn’t help but be cautious. So, over these days, she arranged for all affairs to be handled by other servants in the household, stocked the kitchen with enough ingredients to last for days, and refused to leave Gu Fei’s side even for a moment, determined to keep both of them within her line of sight.

Gu Fei’s attention was wholly absorbed in the art of ink-making; with only three days to spare, she had no time for other concerns and naturally failed to notice Ku Ma’s well-meaning vigilance. Feng Lizhi, on the other hand, seemed to sense it; he glanced at Ku Ma several times with a bemused, half-smiling look.

Feng Lizhi’s skill in ink-making was among the best in Yizhou. Growing up by Feng Puyu’s side, he had absorbed the elegant and refined style characteristic of the Yi School, inheriting it completely. Every ink pellet he crafted was both exquisite and graceful, in both quality and form.

This was the hallmark of the Yi School—not only must the ink itself be superb, but even the molds had to be elegant and unique. Gu Fei noticed this the first time she saw an ink pellet made by Feng Puyu; in this regard, their style differed from that of the capital’s renowned Mo family.

By contrast, the Mo family of the capital produced ink pellets in a far more varied style—after all, a century-old family would naturally accumulate astonishing depth and diversity.

When Feng Lizhi raised his hammer and began striking the ink base with crisp, rhythmic blows, Gu Fei’s almond-shaped eyes widened and she watched, utterly captivated. When he finished, her eyes sparkled as she asked, “Lizhi, is this the Feng family’s exclusive hammer technique?”

He replied with a calm smile, making no effort to hide anything, and nodded. “Yes, this is indeed the Feng family’s ‘Hundred Transformations Willow Hammer Technique.’”

Gu Fei sighed in admiration. “The Hundred Transformations Willow Hammer Technique stands on equal footing with the Mo family’s ‘Thousand-Pound Hammer Method.’ To witness it today is truly a stroke of fortune.”

Her words pleased Feng Lizhi greatly. He gave the hammer a twirl in his blackened hands, a touch of pride in his voice. “A’Fei, watch closely.”

With that, he selected another ink base, raised the hammer, and with a whoosh, began a dazzling display of strikes. As he worked, he continued, “This technique emphasizes movements as light as drifting clouds, as gentle as a fine breeze, and countless variations of wrist force. Only with such tempered labor does the ink base become light and thin.”

Gu Fei was entranced. Unconsciously, she raised her right hand, as if she herself were holding a hammer, mimicking the arc of his wrist and the rhythm of his motions. At first, her movements were stiff and awkward, unable to keep up with his speed. But within a few breaths, even to Ku Ma—an outsider—their actions became indistinguishable, down to the very height their wrists rose.

Beneath her drooping, wrinkled eyelids, Ku Ma’s eyes flashed with keen light. She dared not interrupt, standing quietly in the corner.

When the round of hammering was finished, even Feng Lizhi was out of breath. He wiped the sweat from his brow, not noticing the ink stains on his hands, which left bold black streaks across his refined features.

He turned to see Gu Fei lost in thought, her hand still raised. With a soft laugh, he asked, “A’Fei, do you want to learn so badly?”

Startled back to herself, Gu Fei lowered her hand, caught in the act of secretly learning. For once, embarrassment colored her face.

Feng Lizhi’s gaze was deep; still unaware of the streaks on his face, he bent toward her, eyes narrowed playfully. “The Hundred Transformations Willow Hammer Technique is the Feng family’s secret, passed down through a single line and traditionally taught only to sons. But, if A’Fei truly wishes to learn, perhaps an exception could be made.”

Here, he paused deliberately. Only when Gu Fei met his eyes did he tease, “If you became the Feng family’s daughter-in-law, perhaps I could teach you.”

Gu Fei regarded his face with an odd expression, as if she wished to laugh but restrained herself. She took no offense at his words; instead, she replied with poise, “Is Lizhi proposing marriage? Still, if we were together, I suspect even on our wedding night we’d be discussing ink. Do you think that’s terribly romantic?”

Feng Lizhi considered the image: a bridal chamber aglow with dragon-and-phoenix candles, the red brocade quilt scattered with ink pellets, the two of them seated on the bed, each holding an ink pellet. He couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.

For him, the affinity and mutual understanding between them far surpassed any romantic attachment. Besides, Gu Fei was not like ordinary girls; even confronted with remarks like his, she responded with such composure. Their interactions were always comfortable and natural, free of unspoken worries—things were simply as they appeared.

There are some people in this world who, when no personal interests are at stake, inspire a natural trust from the very first meeting, making for pleasant company.

Gu Fei was by nature suspicious, rarely allowing herself to trust others. Yet with Feng Lizhi, aside from a little calculated maneuvering at the start, she had set aside ulterior motives as their acquaintance deepened. Firstly, she had absolute faith in the integrity of the Feng family. Secondly, Feng Lizhi’s temperament suited her perfectly. And thirdly, ink-making was not something to be mastered behind closed doors; one needed to observe many methods and hear many opinions to develop a personal style.

They exchanged a smile and returned to their work. Feng Lizhi focused on producing as many ink pellets as possible—though he was less adept at making ink molds than Gu Fei, his skill was by no means lacking.

Having witnessed the Hundred Transformations Willow Hammer Technique, Gu Fei reciprocated. Under Feng Lizhi’s gaze, she demonstrated the Mo family’s Thousand-Pound Hammer Method, unafraid that he might deduce her background from her technique.

If she dared to reveal it, it was because she was confident Feng Lizhi was not the type to betray another’s trust.

The two of them discussed their hammer techniques, sharing insights as they crafted ink side by side. Ku Ma, standing quietly in the corner, could not quite follow their technical exchange. Watching the harmonious atmosphere, however, she frowned, her gaze drifting to Feng Lizhi. She resolved that in future, it would be wise to limit Gu Fei’s time alone with him. A man and a woman, sharing such a passion, might well develop feelings over time.

And once a person, especially a woman, became emotionally entangled, it was all too easy to let feelings cloud their judgment. Ku Ma had seen it happen too often and did not wish for Gu Fei’s ambitions to be eroded by love.

Unaware of Ku Ma’s concerns, Gu Fei, with Feng Lizhi’s assistance, produced dozens more ink pellets over the three days. Among them was one remarkable pellet: Gu Fei hammered the first half, Feng Lizhi the second, melding their two techniques. The result was an ink pellet whose color was a rare blend of cinnabar red and deep black.

The top half was cinnabar, the bottom black—two strikingly contrasting hues fused together by their distinct hammer techniques, like the sun and night. The beauty of it captivated them both.

After drying and removing the mold, Feng Lizhi pondered for a long while before, without hesitation, splitting the pellet in two and polishing the halves until they were perfectly round. He handed one half to Gu Fei, keeping the other for himself, smiling as he said, “I don’t wish to sell this pellet. Why don’t we each keep half? Perhaps, in the future, it might serve as a token between us. What do you think, A’Fei?”

Gu Fei answered with a gentle smile, twirling the half-pellet between her fingers. “As you wish, Lizhi. I have no objections.”

Little did Feng Lizhi know that, many years later, this half-ink pellet would indeed become a token of profound significance, ensuring the continuation of the Feng family’s single-line descent.